


Make Good Choices

by TigerLilyNoh



Series: The Uncomfortable Adventures of Sam in Law School [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Bisexual Sam Winchester, Drugs, F/M, Law Student Sam, M/M, Multi, Polyandry, Sam-Centric, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 11:52:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5538839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerLilyNoh/pseuds/TigerLilyNoh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm a Supernatural fic writer, who is currently going to law school in the Bay Area, so I figured I'd write some vignettes of Sam in law school.</p><p>Collection theme: Sam chose law school over hunting, but it wasn't exactly how he'd imagined it.</p><p>This ficlet: Sam goes to a concert to celebrate the end of the semester and gets more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Good Choices

As soon as Sam opened his door he knew that he was in for an interesting night.  Brady was wearing a stylish leather jacket that had the unique quality of having interior pockets in the shoulders.  It had been dubbed the Han Solo, not for any aesthetic similarities, but instead because to those in the know it was a notorious smuggler.  Brady was planning on going out somewhere.

“Come on, I’m taking you out to celebrate.”  Brady said as he stepped into Sam’s dorm room.  He looked Sam over, then started digging through a pile of laundry trying to expedite the donning of shoes & a coat.

Sam should’ve seen the outing coming.  It was the end of the semester- Brady had finished his finals three days earlier and Sam’s last one was that afternoon.  Beyond the traditional motivation to get drunk in solidarity, there was also the fact that this was the first big chance for them to celebrate with each other in almost a year and a half.  They were back together, definitely in at least a friendship sense… and sexual sense… probably in a romantic sense.  Brady was entirely in favor of them being boyfriends again and Sam… surely if he didn’t mind the guy pilfering through his room looking for clean socks there was something going on between them.

“What’d you have in mind?”  Sam asked as he took a few more pills in anticipation of a long night.

“Catching a show in SF.”  

“What show?”

“We’ll figure that out on the train.”  Brady tossed Sam his shoes, then nearly dragged him out the door.  They walked to the nearby station, then caught the first northbound train.  Their stop was the end of the line, the heart of San Francisco.  

It was almost eight at night, but many of the concerts in SF didn’t start until nine and often enough the headliners wouldn’t come out until ten or eleven.  Depending on where you were it was a whirlwind of life until the wee morning hours.

“Here’s one I’ve heard of, Nero.”  Brady said without looking up from his iPhone.

“I’m guessing it isn’t fiddle.”  Sam joked.

“Not quite.”  Brady smiled, but didn’t laugh.  “It’s EDM, should be a good party.”

Sam wasn’t entirely confident in Brady’s reassurance.  He had never been to an electronic dance music concert before, but knew that they were supposed to be intense and could be like minor raves.  The prospect of loud, potentially screeching noises worried him slightly.  He wasn’t sure if that was likely to set off one of his migraines.

“EDM? I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”  Sam hesitated to tell Brady about his health problems.  He didn’t want to worry him or worse, to suddenly be coddled.  Brady would want to take care of him, probably oppressively so.

“It’s the kind of purge we both need after a long semester.  Anyway, I just bought tickets.”  Brady grinned mischievously.  The guy had a way of not taking no for an answer nine times out of ten.  Historically it had led to more adventurous fond memories than regrets, but it still was a bit unsettling.

The venue turned out to be one of those vintage theaters located in a sketchy neighborhood.  Outside Sam felt ever so slightly comforted by his years of combat training, but inside he was blown away by the decor.  Ornately carved gold leafed molding framed the stage.  The ceiling was covered in murals of cherubs & heavenly scenes.  Every other surface seemed to be velveted or silk curtains.  It was dimly lit and full of patrons who were already hard at work becoming intoxicated.

They scoped out a spot to stand near the stage, but off to a side so that their height wasn’t causing any problems for other audience members.  After staking their claim, Brady wandered off through the crowd to go get them some drinks.  The sight of strobe lights on the stage made Sam internally cringe, but he tried to distract himself from his worried thoughts by studying the crowd.

Sam was people watching when he noticed a guy accidentally bump into a woman a few feet away.  Nearly half her beer poured down her front, soaking her clothes.  She turned to yell at the man who had bumped into her, but he was already gone.  After muttering something under her breath, she touched her wet clothing.  In an instant her black t-shirt & leather pants were perfectly clean.  When she started turning back to the stage, she spotted Sam staring at her.  

Instead of reacting hostilely or running, she looked him over and winked.  Strangely, she moved to stand right next to him.  Her black hair was trimmed into an asymmetrical pixie cut.  She had black lipstick & ornate black eyeliner that exaggerated the epicanthic folds of her eyes.  Around her neck she wore a silver pentacle pendant.

“Go on, say it.”  She invited in a tone that was nearly purring.

“Are you a witch?”

“Born to the craft, baby.  I know you aren’t Chinatown and you don’t look like a Tenderloin- I’m guessing Sunset…”  She eyed Sam before adding.  "or are you one of those preppy Palo Alto snaps?“

"Sunset?”  Sam asked with confusion.  He thought that was a SF neighborhood, but other than that he was at a complete loss.

“The coven.”  She clarified with a surprised expression.

She thought he was a witch too, that’s why she wasn’t spooked by him.  He hoped she couldn’t see him blushing in the dim light of the club.  The last thing he needed was to get into a fight with a witch in front of Brady and a hundred civilians.

“I’m not from around here originally.  I’m not associated with a coven.”  It wasn’t technically a lie.

“Free agent?  Nice.”  She smiled up at him.  “I’m Stacy.”

“Sam.”  He was too high to think to use a fake name.  Luckily, she didn’t seem to be dangerous… though looks could be deceiving.  She was a witch after all.  The whole point of witches was that their strength came from entirely non-physical sources.  “Listen, the guy I’m with doesn’t know about any of that stuff.  Please don’t tell him.”

“I gotcha.  Keep it cool for the muggles.”  He suddenly wondered if ‘muggle’ was a legitimate term among witches or if she was just trying to be cute.  She pulled a joint from her jacket pocket, put it between her lips, and lit it with a snap of her fingers, somewhat defeating her earlier statement.  Oddly, no one else appeared to notice.  Granted, a concert full of mind altering substances was probably one of the best places for witches to let loose. “You been local long?”

“I’ve lived down the peninsula for a few years.”  He wanted to justify not being involved with a coven, so he added.  “I moved out here for school and that’s more or less been my life.”

“You celebrating?”  She pointed around at the concert with her joint.

“Yeah, I just finished the semester.”

“Congrats.  I’ve got a gift for you.”  He watched her take a quick puff of her joint, then gestured for him to lean down.  When he was a bit closer to her, she turned the partially smoked joint around for him to take a hit off it.  The small remnants of lipstick on it gave him pause.  “It’s cut with drakesbane- the good stuff, not that street peddler shit.”

It was almost certainly some kind of magically modified drug, probably weed.  A combination of social anxiety related peer pressure & fear of causing a scene convinced him to keep up the rouse.  He leaned forward and took a cautious hit from it.  The smoke was strangely sweet with a bitter aftertaste.  It took a significant amount of concentration to not start coughing, but the effort earned him a nod of respect.

Brady returned with two gin & tonics, providing something of a restriction on the witch’s interaction with Sam.  She briefly chatted with Brady while they finished their drinks.  It was hard to tell if he was reading too much into it, but at one point Sam noticed Brady’s hand touching her waist, pulling her closer to speak into her ear during a particularly loud moment in a song.  He wasn’t jealous- he didn’t get jealous of that little stuff easily, but he briefly worried what they were talking about.  After a few minutes, she drifted away through the crowd for whatever reason.

When the second opener came out, Brady unveiled the contents of his jacket’s hidden compartments.  He held out two small baggies, one containing joints and the other pink pills.  

“Make good choices.”  Brady teased as he moved the bag of weed out of Sam’s reach when he went to grab it.

“Fuck you.”  Sam said while rolling his eyes.

“The night is still young.”  Brady replied, then handed over the weed to Sam.

He didn’t know what drakesbane was, but the weed & gin both seemed to pack a little extra punch and in the best possible way.  It was a relaxed & smooth high that didn’t produce any suppressive effects.  In fact, he couldn’t even sense the beginning of an alcohol related headache.  

The base & overall volume was so high that Sam could feel the music shaking his very core.  It didn’t hurt that the crowd was tightly packed, trying to dance to the music.  He’d been to concerts before, but never one where the audience had turned into such an intoxicated pulsing mass of humanity.  Mob mentality reigned supreme and things turned wilder when the second opener played a song with the lyrics ‘California knows how to party’.  The hometown crowd began jumping and pulsing to the beat & their own vanity.

He was completely lost in the drugs, alcohol, & people.  If he’d been more sober he might’ve been concerned about getting a migraine or how he’d get back to his dorm, but for the moment he didn’t care about anything.  The lack of stress may have kept the noise from triggering a migraine, but at the same time maybe the lack of migraine was reducing his stress.  It’d been so long since he’d tried to do anything like this, anything so adventurous.

When the main act started, strobe lights flashed, turning the crowd into flickering mass.  There was almost no room between him and the people around him.  Everyone was taking turns pressing into each other.  It might’ve made him feel claustrophobic except that it was all too surreal.  

Sam could feel Brady grinding against his left hip.  He barely even cared about the nuances of their relationship.  His was drunk, high, & consumed by the cathartic purge of being done with the school for almost a month.  The entire experience was primal and he gave into it.  When Brady’s baggie of pills came out again he took one.

During a slower song, Sam pulled Brady into a kiss.  Brady was getting hard and Sam started grinding against him with more purpose.  Had he been more familiar with the venue, he might’ve tried to find a dark & quiet corner to sneak off to, but he wouldn’t know where to find privacy.  Not to mention, there was something to be said for being part of the writhing mass.  

A small, cool hand slid up Sam’s chest below his shirt.  When he looked over, he saw the witch dancing next to him.  She smiled at him hungrily, which made him grind against Brady harder.  He turned his upper body towards her and she pulled his face down into a kiss.

* * *

Sam woke up naked in his bed.  He was laying on his left side, but his feet were at the head of his bed.  About a foot in front of him was a slightly muscular pelvis.  He lifted his head up an inch or two in order to confirm that the naked crotch before him belonged to Brady.  With a roll of his eyes, He turned over onto his right side.

About a foot in front of him, Sam saw another crotch.  It was a woman’s, with a tidy patch of black pubic hair.  Her torso had a few magical looking tattoos- it was the witch from the concert.  He’d fucked a witch.  If his dad ever found out…  Sam mentally kicked himself for having that immediate reaction.  His dad would probably be equally mad about Brady.

Sam rolled onto his back and noticed oily handprints on the eight foot tall ceiling of his dorm room.  When he sat up he could see a few strewn objects and clothing, indicative of an intoxicated three way.  There appeared to be six used condoms in the wastebasket, he couldn’t remember how many were his in one respect or another.  Two of the condoms had black lipstick on them, but that wasn’t particularly telling because both Brady & he had trace amounts of lipstick on their lips & torsos.

Giving into the sinking feeling, Sam laid back down on the bed and sighed.

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of a tonal change from the super introspective Sam, but it wouldn't be grad school without the occasional night of questionable decisions.


End file.
